


Want You To Want Me

by stubliminalmessaging



Series: Shameless Prompt Fics [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 10 things i hate about you au (sort of), M/M, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your name’s Mickey, right?” Ian asked... to literally no response. Mickey just kept playing with his phone and ignored Ian so he persisted. “What are you doing on your phone?”</p><p>“Making a list of ways to kill annoying fucking gingers,” he replied an Ian tried not to be effected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want You To Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> so the anon prompt I received was vastly different from how this turned out but when I tried to write the exact prompt I was having a lot of trouble. I still think it turned out pretty good but apologies to the anon who requested it that it's not exactly what you wanted

Okay, so Ian admits that he probably never would have looked twice at Mickey Milkovich if Lip hadn’t been paying him to. He didn’t even get why Lip was so desperate to date Mickey’s sister but he was a bit biased on that one. He couldn’t very well turn down the cash Lip was offering anyways so he agreed to it.

 

"What makes you think he’d want to go out with me anyways?" Ian asked as he poked out his leftover lasagna and eyed Mickey from across the cafeteria. "How do you even know he’s gay?"

 

"Mandy told me," Lip replied. "Just... go up to him and ask if he’s a power top. That’s what gay dudes do right? When they flirt?"

 

Ian rolled his eyes. " _I’m_ a top, douchebag. It wouldn’t work if he was a top." He set down his fork to take a gulp of his diet Coke. "Her family doesn’t exactly strike me as caring and protective."

 

"It’s her brothers. She just had an abortion so now she’s not allowed to go out with anyone unless she’s on a double date with one of her brothers." Lip explained.

 

"Doesn’t she have like four of them she could go on double dates with?" Ian asked, grumpy for no reason considering he was warming up to the idea of dating Mickey the more he looked at him.

 

"Have you _seen_ the older Milkovich brothers? They’re fucking _terrifying_ ," Lip said and Ian snorted.

 

"What, so Mandy isn’t worth the risk?"

 

"Come on, Ian. You know I’m not about that life," Lip said and didn’t Ian know it. He preferred his girls ‘quick, convenient, and low-maintenance’ (his words) and Ian felt a bit bad about helping Lip inevitably use this girl like a tool and then toss her in the trash, but he eventually agreed to it when Lip offered him a hundred bucks.

 

-

 

Mickey was actually really cute and getting cuter by the second the more Ian looked at him. He was a little rough around the edges with his tattoos and this tough guy exterior but Ian found that he was digging it before long. He didn’t quite understand why no one would want to try and go out with him... that is, until Ian actually talked to him and discovered just how abrasive and rude he was. After that, he completely understood.

 

"Your name’s Mickey, right?" Ian asked... to literally no response. Mickey just kept playing with his phone and ignored Ian so he persisted. "What are you doing on your phone?"

 

"Making a list of ways to kill annoying fucking gingers," he replied an Ian tried not to be effected.

 

"You seem like a creative guy, so that list is probably pretty long," Ian mused.

 

Mickey huffed but didn’t look up. "How are you not getting the ‘fuck off’ vibe I’m putting off?"

 

"Oh, I’m getting it," Ian chuckled. "I just don’t give up easily."

 

"You should start," Mickey told him, finally getting up from his seat and pocketing his phone. He stormed down the hall to the main doors of the school and Ian set off to follow him until the bell for the next period went and he was forced to let Mickey go. He swung by his locker to switch out his text books, and started putting together his plan for his next attempt to woo Mickey.

 

-

 

The next time Ian tried to talk to Mickey he was much better prepared. He ducked his head under the scaffolding of the bleachers, where he had followed Mickey. He scuffed his feet as he walked so Mickey would know he was there and the older boy scowled around the butt of his cigarette when he saw Ian.

 

"You really can’t take a fucking hint," he commented, the words accompanied by smoke as he breathed them out.

 

Ian stopped just short of Mickey, who blew his smoke out at him. "I’ll spell it out for you blatantly: fuck. Off."

 

"See, I thought you’d say something like that, so I come bearing a little incentive," he shrugged his bag off his shoulder and unzipped it, presenting Mickey with a can of beer and a bag of weed. Mickey eyed him for only a moment before he reached out and snatched the bag from Ian.

 

"Why do you even want to talk to me?" Mickey asked, pulling open the bag. He sniffed at it and shook the bag to look at the pot. When he looked back up at Ian he was brandishing a package of papers with his right hand while he held the beer with his left.

 

"I don’t know, you just seemed cool," Ian said, shrugging as they settled into makeshift seats on the ground, leaned against the metal scaffolding. Mickey snorted at that, licking at the edge of the paper of the joint to finish rolling it.

 

"You’re a poor judge of character," Mickey informed him as he lit up. He did that thing again where he breathed out his smoke as he spoke, so his voice came out soft and breathy. "All you’ve achieved here is wasted your beer and weed by sharing."

 

"Well now that I’ve got you here I will admit I have an ulterior motive," Ian said, and Mickey waved him off, passing the joint back to him.

 

"Well don’t fuckin’ talk about it now, you’re gonna ruin my high," Mickey grumbled. "I fucking know you’d be an annoying prick who talks too much. Like your fuckin’ brother."

 

"I like to think I’m better-looking than him," Ian said and Mickey huffed out a laugh at that. Ian considered it a victory.

 

They spent the rest of that encounter smoking and exchanging the occasional comment. Ian didn’t bring up his ulterior motive again and Mickey didn’t ask for it until they were packing their shit up and getting ready to part ways.

 

"Ay, what was it you wanted from me when you came out here?" he asked, lighting a smoke as they stepped out from under the bleachers. Ian swung his back over his shoulder and scuffed his shoe on the pavement.

 

"Wanted to ask you out, actually," Ian replied. "Typical dinner and a movie type of shit. Get back to me tomorrow if you’re interested." Then he powerwalked the fuck out of there before Mickey could beat the shit out of him.

 

-

 

The next day Ian didn’t see Mickey all day but as he was switching out his binders at the end of lunch he found a note taped to the inside of his locker door. He puzzled over it because his lock wasn’t broken, so Mickey must have gotten the combination somehow when he left Ian the note telling him to go to the Canaryville baseball diamond at midnight that night. Ian smirked as he closed his locker and pocketed the note. Mickey hadn’t signed it, but Ian knew it was him because the note ended with ‘bring weed’ scribbled as an afterthought.

 

-

 

Ian didn’t see Mickey at first when he made it to the baseball diamond like the note said, until he saw thin wisps of smoke drifting out from under the roof of the dugout and, as he got closer, saw the cherry of Mickey’s smoke burning red in the shadows. Ian pushed open the gate they only locked in the winter and threw his bag down on the bench of the dugout before the sat himself down beside it and looked over at Mickey.

 

"Did you think about my offer or did you just want more of my weed?" Ian teased, smirking when Mickey’s eyes flicked up to look at him. They shone like stars in the light from the field.

 

"Both," Mickey replied. "Don’t wanna get into it until we smoke up a bit so get it started, red."

 

Ian got out his stuff and obediently rolled a joint, lighting it up and taking a puff before he passed it to Mickey. They smoked about half the joint before Ian noticed Mickey was looking at him and so he started talking.

 

"So do you want to go out with me or...?"

 

"In this neighbourhood, Gallagher? You got a fuckin’ death wish?"

 

"That’s why we get Mandy and Lip to go with us. We can pretend we’re all hanging out as a group and no one will have any reason to ask questions or make assumptions," Ian explained and Mickey narrowed his eyes.

 

"So this is like an excuse to get your brother hooked up with my sister?" Mickey asked, raising his eyebrows. "’Cause that’s what it fuckin’ sounds like. People don’t ask me out."

 

"Yeah well I did," Ian said, not addressing Mickey’s question. "I _am_."

 

"Why? I’m not exactly Chicago’s most wanted bachelor," Mickey mumbled.

 

"You’re cute. From what I can tell from your too-baggy jeans and hoodies you’ve got a good body," Ian admitted, listening to Mickey scoff. "And the whole rough and tough bad boy thing is really working for me."

 

"It’s not a _thing_ ," Mickey protested. "It’s just _me_."

 

"Then I like _you_." Ian said. "So yes? No? Maybe? Maybe meaning definitely yes?"

 

"Why not just ask if I wanna fuck?" Mickey asked. "I’m pretty fuckin’ hard up. I would have said yes."

 

"Is it really that impossible that I want to hang out with you?" Ian asked with a grin. "Just one date disguised as hanging out and I won’t bug you anymore."

 

"Can I get one guaranteed fuck out of it?" Mickey asked, biting at his lip as he tried to subtly look Ian over. "You got a big dick?"

 

"You’ll have to wait until after dinner and a movie to find out, won’t you?" Ian said, shifting to hide his boner. He didn’t think Mickey would be blatantly thirsty but he liked it. "Friday night. Say around 7?"

 

"Fine," Mickey said, killing the joint they’d been passing back and forth between them. "You better be packin’ some heat ‘cause if this ain’t worth it I’m gonna beat the shit out of you."

 

Ian didn’t respond to that; just grinned and got busy rolling another joint.

 

-

 

Hanging out was fun, and the sex was even better. Mickey was the definition of the term ‘power bottom’ and Ian loved how bossy he was. They ended up back at the dugouts after they left Lip and Mandy to do whatever they were going to do and Mickey pushed Ian down on the bench and straddled his lap, kissing him so aggressively that Ian found the next morning that he had a little split in his lip.

 

As they sat panting between their second and third rounds Ian gathered up enough presence of mind to ask; "So when can we do this again?"

 

"Soon as you can get it up again."

 

"Not that. The date thing."

 

Mickey snorted as he took the smoke Ian was offering him. "Who said I wanna go out with you again?" he asked, slurring a little around the cigarette in his mouth.

 

"Well even aside from the great sex, tonight was fun," Ian explained. "We could do something else next time. Like paintballing or the arcade or something."

 

"I’ll think about it," Mickey said, finishing off his smoke. "You ready to go again, or you, uh, need some time, firecrotch?" Mickey asked, raising his eyebrows and poking his tongue into the corner of his mouth.

 

Ian grinned and pushed at Mickey’s shoulder until he turned around.

 

-

 

Meeting under the bleachers after school had become a daily ritual for them over the past few weeks since they’d started going on double dates with Mandy and Lip so Ian was a bit surprised to show up at their spot one day only to find it empty. He hung around about twenty minutes, smoking and texting Mickey to no response. He headed home after that, puzzling over Mickey’s non-responsiveness but trying not to think too much of it. Dude could be busy if he wanted.

 

-

 

After three days of getting nothing from Mickey and not seeing him at or after school, Ian decided to get to the bottom of the mystery. He went to the Milkovich house after school to confront Mickey himself. He knocked at the door what felt like a dozen times before he decided to just walk in. The door being unlocked made that especially easy. He rolled his eyes when he walked past two other Milkovich brothers sitting in the living room watching a straight porn on the TV with the volume turned way up. Ian wondered how he hadn’t heard the woman’s wailing moans from the front step.

 

Ian got out of there as soon as possible, striding back to where he knew Mickey’s room was and letting himself in without knocking. He slammed the door shut behind him, muffling the sounds of the fake orgasm on the TV, and turned to regard Mickey where he was lounging in his bed... cleaning a gun, which he promptly reassembled and turned on Ian.

 

"Woah!" Ian yelped, holding his hands up and backing himself up against the door. "Shit Mickey, don’t fucking point that thing at me!"

 

"Why not?" Mickey growled, furrowing his eyebrows at Ian. "It’s what I do to people who fuck me over."

 

"What the fuck? I never fucked you over, Mickey," Ian said, slowly lowering his hands but keeping his eyes trained on the gun. "Can you _please_ put that down, Mick?"

 

"I’ll put it down when you get the fuck out of my room," Mickey said. "I don’t want to see you, in case you hadn’t fucking gotten that by now."

 

"What did I do?" Mickey scoffed and so Ian went on. "Jesus Christ, fucking tell me what I did! I can’t read your mind!"

 

"Your fucking deal with your brother?" Mickey said, and Ian’s stomach felt like it had turned to lead. "He hurt Mandy and she told me about it."

 

"Oh shit," Ian muttered.

 

"Oh shit is right," Mickey said, and Ian could have sworn his voice broke. He cocked the gun and aimed it at Ian again. "Now get the fuck out."

 

Ian fled then without another word, fumbling behind his back for the doorknob and backing out of the room. His brain was going a mile a minute as he stumbled out of the house and wandered back home. Maybe he was a stubborn asshole with a death wish but he immediately began thinking of ways that he could win Mickey back – because he fucking loved the guy, for all his grumpiness and unpleasantness, and he wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

 

-

 

Mickey made a move for him, before he had even half a plan formed.

 

Less than a week after Mickey had threatened Ian he was getting his coat from his locker at the end of the day and when he opened it a folded-up slip of paper went fluttering to the floor. He bent down to pick it up and thought of the first time he’d had this happen to him. This time Mickey hadn’t even bothered to try to open his lock – clearly he’d just slipped the note in the door.

 

Ian’s heart pounded as he unfolded the paper, and he immediately confirmed his suspicions that Mickey had written it when he recognized the other boy’s messy handwriting. He was confused at first by what looked like sentence breaks in weird places until he recognized a rhyming pattern and metre. Then he stared slack-jawed at the paper as he read the _fucking poem Mickey had written for him_.

 

He read it over enough times that the halls of the school were more or less deserted by the time he finally shoved the poem in his pocket and grabbed his coat. He swung his bag onto his back and began the walk home, determined to process this new development before he did anything about it. But then his head and his legs were disagreeing and before he knew it he found himself on the front step at the Milkovich house.

 

"Mickey wants to kill you," Mandy commented with a scowl when she answered the door. "Personally, I think we should kill all you stupid fucking Gallaghers. Or at least the men."

 

"Look, I’m sorry Lip fucked you over but I really need to see Mickey," Ian pleaded. He’d only heard a little bit about what went on between Lip and Mandy but he’d heard enough to know that Mandy didn’t take too kindly to literally walking in on Lip with his dick in Karen Jackson’s mouth. "He’s an idiot but that’s got nothing to do with me."

 

"Yeah, about that: fuck off. Mickey told me about the shit you pulled and at this point I’m down with murder," Mandy made to slam the door in his face but Ian stammered out a protest.

 

"Wait! Just – read this," he fumbled to get the crumpled up paper out of his pocket and thrust it towards her. She raised an eyebrow and took the paper from him, unfolding it gingerly. Ian watched her eyes scan across the paper. "Mickey left that in my locker today. He wrote it for _me_."

 

Mandy kept a straight face for all of two seconds before she burst out laughing and nearly fell over. Ian watched in confusion as she dropped the poem on the dirty front step of the Milkovich house. Ian hurried to scoop it up before it got ruined and Mandy fell to her knees, clutching at her abdomen as she was overcome with hysterical laughter.

 

"You two idiots gotta sort your shit out," Mandy managed to get out through her laughter. She leaned on the rail of their step as she caught her breath. "And not by ripping off late 90s rom-coms either."

 

Ian frowned, brows furrowed. "What?"

 

"That whole fucking poem that’s got you lookin’ so crazy in love is from _10 Things I Hate About You_. Word for fucking word." Mandy explained, wiping off a tear that was running down her cheek. "You know, with Heath Ledger? The whole getting paid to date him thing is pretty similar actually, now that I think of it-"

 

Ian glared down at the paper as if it itself had betrayed him. "What the fuck?" he whispered.

 

"I’d ask Mickey about that if I were you, but I wasn’t lying when I said you can’t talk to him right now," Mandy said, holding a hand up to stop Ian from coming any further into the house. "He’s gone out of state on a run with my brothers for a couple of days. I’d recommend you sort your shit out and talk to him when he gets back."

 

Ian nodded and Mandy said; "Tell Lip to go fuck himself for me," and Ian said he would and then she was gone back into the house and Ian was walking home only marginally less confused than he had been before.

 

-

 

In the two days that Mickey was gone Ian watched a movie, bought something that cost all of the money Lip had given him dating Mickey (and then some), and did some hardcore thinking. On the day he put his plan in motion he left home early to leave a note taped to the door of the Milkovich house, and skipped out on last period to swing by his own place and picked up the thing he’d bought.

 

He set up camp at his and Mickey’s spot under the bleachers and settled in to wait. He heard the bell ring to end the school day and lit a smoke as he watched the track team stretching and starting their practice. He wasn’t terribly interested in what they were doing, so it was easy to drop the track team in favour of the grumpy-looking teenager slouching his way towards the spot where Ian was sitting.

 

Ian got up from the scaffolding he’d been leaning against just in time to receive a punch in the face from Mickey. The blow knocked him back against the scaffolding and had him clutching at his bleeding nose and cursing.

 

"I told you I didn’t want to see you again, Gallagher," Mickey snarled, picking up the cigarette that Ian dropped and smoking it furiously. "What fucking part of that didn’t make it through your thick fucking skull?"

 

"Oh, I don’t know _Mickey_ , maybe the same part that made you leave a fucking poem in my locker," Ian spat both figuratively and literally as blood ran to the back of his sinuses and into his throat. "Didn’t fucking peg you for an old romantic comedy fan either, but here we are." Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and his cheeks pinkened as he realized Ian was onto him. "I mean I kind of get it; Heath Ledger was pretty cute in that movie, but ripping off literally the entire poem was going a bit overboard."

 

"Fuck off," Mickey mumbled. "It’s a fucking good movie."

 

"I know. I watched it," Ian said. "And it wasn’t bad. It kind of inspired me, actually..." Ian moved away from the beams he’d been leaning on and strode over to the case he’d hidden under his jacket. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and stooped down to uncover and pick up the case. He held it out to Mickey and shrugged nonchalantly when Mickey took it from him. "You don’t have a car that I can leave it in and it’s not exactly a super expensive guitar, but I thought it was pretty appropriate."

 

Mickey gave an inquisitive flick of his eyebrows before he lowered the case to the ground and kneeled to open it. Inside was a nearly-new paintball gun, complete with a hopper and a couple of tanks. At one end of the case was a bulging bag of paintballs. Ian watched Mickey stare at it and he even went so far as to take the gun out of the case, all in complete silence, and so Ian launched into his rant.

 

"I got it second-hand and I know it’s not the best loadout ever but you were complaining about how bad the rental equipment was when we went together last time. I was actually planning on getting you a gun whether I was apologizing or not," Ian stared at Mickey’s hands as they inspected the gun. "I thought we could go again. On another date or whatever."

 

"Can I shoot you in the dick until I’m not pissed off at you anymore?" Mickey asked quietly, still focused solely on the equipment in the case.

 

"If you want," Ian said. "Figured you might want it in working order, though. You know, for after."

 

"Awful cocky," Mickey mumbled, leaving the pun to sit in the static air between them.

 

Ian smirked at the joke. "So... you’ll give me another chance? Let me take you on a real date, without Lip and Mandy and without any kind of payoff?"

 

"Maybe. I’ll think about it," Mickey said, finishing his inspection and placing his new gun and accessories back in the case and snapping it shut. He got to his feet and brushed off his knees, then gestured to Ian. "Well, come on. Hope you don’t got anywhere to be, Gallagher. This might take a while."

 

"Hope so," Ian said, grinning as Mickey turned to walk off with his new case of goodies. Ian grabbed his stuff and hurried off after him. "One more thing," he said, catching Mickey’s sleeve and dragging him back under the bleachers. He shoved a protesting Mickey against a pillar and kissed him quiet, sighing at the perfect beautiful feeling of their mouths pressing together after so long. Every second they hadn’t been doing this had been killing him, and when Mickey’s free hand came up to grip the back of his neck and pull him in deeper, he felt like they were truly settling in to something _good_.

 

"I love you, you miserable fucker," Ian told him when they parted.

 

"Yeah, I got some real stupid fucking feelings for you too," Mickey mumbled, lighting a smoke and letting Ian hold his hand for just a second before they were off. "But you didn’t fucking hear it from me and if you say that to me in public again I’m gonna chop your nuts off."

 

"You got it," Ian said, failing to keep his grin in check when they bumped shoulders as they walked.


End file.
